


Desperately Seeking Thrills

by MaisieBee



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bisexual Cho Chang, Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor Harry Potter, Everyone Is Gay, Exes, F/F, Femslash, Fingerfucking, Gay Ginny Weasley, Gay Harry Potter, Late Night Conversations, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-Hogwarts, Quidditch, Quidditch Player Ginny Weasley, Room of Requirement, Room of Requirement Shenanigans, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-26 16:04:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15004427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaisieBee/pseuds/MaisieBee
Summary: Hogwarts is having its first ever alumni Quidditch match and that means former students getting to mix and mingle after years of being away from the magical castle. Ginny Weasley, recently single and ready for some fun, accepts the invitation, thinking her only problem will be running into her ex, Harry Potter, who now works as Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, and evading her brother Ron's questions about why they broke up.She has nooooo idea.





	1. Be Careful What You Wish For. . .

Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy-woggy Hogwarts/Teach is something please!/Whether we are old and bald or young with scabby knees. . .

 

Her old haunt had hardly changed. Ginny couldn't believe it had been five years since she'd last set foot in the castle that had shaped her youth, had been her entire world for nearly a decade. What had happened inside that old castle had left a dragon-sized footprint. Sometimes she still had nightmares about the Chamber of Secrets. The chill, numb panic still washed over her a few nights every year, making her sit straight up in bed and grope in the dark for her wand. For two years, she'd found Harry there instead. Now she only found her tangled sheets and the occasional cat.

 

“A'right there, Ginny?”

 

Her older brother, Ron, threw a gangly arm around her shoulders and hugged her tightly. Ginny turned her head and pressed it against his soft red jumper. The smell of pine (closet air-freshener), dusky rose petals (Hermione's perfume), and chocolate (he'd eaten it on the train over; probably sneaking it when Hermione hadn't been looking) comforted her, calmed her nerves. She noticed that Ron didn't have his other hand stuffed into his pocket -- a sure sign he was having as many mixed emotions as she was. 

 

“I'm alright, Ron. Thanks,” she said. 

 

He squeezed her shoulders but didn't let her go. Ducking his head, Ron whispered, “You sure? I mean. . .Harry is here. We'll more'n likely run into him before long.”

 

Harry. Harry Potter. Their breakup last year hadn't been particularly messy. He'd still joined the Weasley for Christmas, but they'd barely spoken about anything. It had ended because they both had felt it, but wanted to ignore it: the feeling that they simply couldn't be happy with each other. It was no one's fault, just impossible to come to terms with. Finally, Ginny had snapped. And she'd still yet to apologize for the things she'd said. 

 

“I know, I know,” she whispered back. “As soon as I accepted Headmistress McGonagall's invitation, I knew I'd probably end up seeing him again.”

 

Ron gaped at her. His large, freckles nose only made the expression more comical. “Like, 'seeing him again' seeing him?”

 

Sighing, Ginny untangled herself from her youngest older brother on the pretense of scooping her flaming red hair up into a pony tale, but really it was to get out of having this conversation again. “I'm not getting back together with him, Ron,” Ginny said forcefully, letting the hair elastic snap for emphasis. “It didn't work out.” Under her breath, she added, “Not for either of us.”

 

Before Ron could respond, someone gleefully shouted their names. Coming across the spacious entrance hall, empty for now because the student of Hogwarts were all in class, was a tall, gorgeous, dark-haired man. Who would have guessed from his quirky grin and the muscles moving under his shirt that he'd been such a shy, nerdy kid. 

 

“Longbottom!” Ron bellowed, yanking professor of herbology Neville Longbottom into one of those painful “bro” hugs Ginny, being the only girl in her family, knew only too well. “How've you been, mate? School treating you well?”

 

Neville grinned even more broadly and patted Ron's shoulder, which nearly came up to his chin. “Brilliantly, thanks, Ron. The first years have a lot to learn, but they're keen.”

 

“Remember when we were first years?” Ron asked wistfully.

 

Neville laughed. “I'd rather not. Hermione jinxed me in first year, don't forget. And then the whole school found out at the end-of-year speech.” Turning to Ginny, Neville rubbed the back of his neck. “It's, er, good to see you again, Ginny.”

 

“You, too, Neville.” She checked the spelled face of her wristwatch — a gift from Harry that had been charmed to resemble the night sky, complete with moving constellations — and groaned. “I'd love to catch up, but I've gotta run. Practice is in twenty minutes. See you later, boys.”

 

“Good luck out there on the pitch!” Neville called after her. 

 

Ginny threw a quick smile over her shoulder then left them laughing and catching up, pushing her way out of the castle's giant front doors. They slammed shut behind her and she jumped. How quickly she'd forgotten that sound.

— 

Despite the castle brimming with students and teachers, her walk down to the Quiddich pitch was solitary. The ground tilted steeply under her muddy boots as she stumbled gracelessly down the hillside. The autumn rain hung in the air and clung to her exposed neck, face and wrists. She would be breathing it all practice and coughing it up all night. A grin twitched on her lips. This was just how it should be. 

Ginevra Weasley was a good Quiddich player — good enough that she had a position as chaser for the Holyhead Harpies waiting for her when she'd finished school. Now, Headmistress McGonagall had invited herself and the other dozen or so students that had also become professional Quiddich players back to Hogwarts to play an Alumni game. The very first of its kind. It was a reminder to students, parents, and teachers why the school was so great, as well as showing off to the witches and wizards who would be traveling from other countries to see their favorite Quiddich players in an exclusive game. 

 

Ahead of her, looming but as benevolent as the giant squid in the lake, was the Quiddich pitch. It was always colorful, but to the normal House colors had been added the colors of the various teams that the players came from. She saw a Holyhead Harpies banner hanging next to a Gryffindor one and a surge of pride swelled in Ginny's chest.

 

Oh, it was good to be back. 

 

She ducked under a low beam and the pitch spread out before her. There were already groups of adults standing around and catching up. Although they all wore jeans, soft-shell jackets to ward against the chill, and other Muggle clothing, Ginny recognized several faces. There was Dean Thomas, arm slung around the neck of a good-looking blond boy who was holding his hand. Matching wedding rings decorated their fingers. Near them was Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell, two old Gryffindor chasers who now chased for two Northern teams. Slytherins, Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws and Gryffindors all mingled together in harmony, joking and becoming fast friends. 

 

“Oi, everyone, look! It's Weasley!”

 

The old Quiddich commentator and fellow Gryffindor, Lee Jordan, saluted Ginny as she crossed the pitch, the ground threatening to give way under her with every step. 

 

“Heya, Jordan,” she greeted him warmly. “Back where you belong?”

 

“Minerva asked for me especially. Guess she can't resist my charms.” Lee Jordan waggled his hips suggestively and they all hooted. 

 

“Don't make me reprimand you, Jordan,” Oliver Wood snapped. 

 

“Sorry, Wood,” Lee said sheepishly. Behind his back, Lee winked as Ginny. 

 

Oliver Wood whipped out his wand and aimed it at his threat. “Alright, teams!” he boomed, his voice magically amplified and carrying across the far reaches of the pitch. “Gather 'round!”

 

Everyone jostled into a close circle around the older man. McGonagall had told them that since this was a friendly match, he was coaching both teams. 

 

Ginny found herself shoulder to shoulder with a beautiful, black-haired woman. When she caught Ginny looking at her, she flashed her a gorgeous smile. 

 

“I'd recognized that red hair anywhere,” Cho Chang whispered. “Hi, Ginny. It's been a while since our DA days, but you still remember me, yeah?”

 

“Of course. It certainly has been a while,” Ginny breathed. She remembered Cho alright. How could anyone forget the reputation she'd had at school for having a new boyfriend every few months, how stunning she was, and how she always had Harry's attention whether she wanted it or not? Ginny had been mad jealous of her then. Now. . .well, she was just surprised she hadn't remembered how beautiful she was. 

— 

Ginny wrung the hot, scented water out of her hair and wrapped herself up in two fluffy towels. McGonagall had somehow managed to magic up an extra bathroom, common room, and sleeping quarters for the returning alums of Hogwarts. With tonight’s practice out of the way, she was free to explore the castle with the fresh eyes that absence had given her. Since the alum quarters hadn’t disappeared when she left to seek out Ron and Hermione before they left to camp out on the grounds in the spacious tents Mum and Dad had leant them, she could only assume that the Room of Requirement was still out there in the castle. And she was determined to find it. 

 

When night had come and most of her fellow players had fallen asleep, although a few still chatted in the dying twilight, she slipped out of the room and down the stairs to the common area. She was halfway across it when a girl’s voice moaned, low in her throat.

 

Ginny's head snapped to the side and got an eyeful of naked back and buttocks. Katie Bell squirmed sensually on top of one of the other male players, her legs wrapped around his waist as she rocked. He was gasping in her ear, eyes closed, her short blond hair knotted in his fingers. The whole thing was messy and so unexpected that Ginny felt her face turn to fire. She flew out of the common room, noisily shutting the door behind her. 

 

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Fuck me,” she said through gritted teeth, wishing she could purge the image of Katie's naked rear from her mind. . .along with the new tightness around her crotch. Her jeans suddenly felt too snug. Damn, her body was reacting like a horny teenager. She shouldn't be turned on by two seconds of bare female backside, but she'd been desperately wishing for a one-off shag for weeks. Getting herself off satisfied her for a little while but it just didn't have the lasting excitement of having someone else's hand between her thighs just for one night. She tried to purge the thought from her mind. She was out here to explore.

 

Although she probably could have used a cushioning charm on her shoes, Ginny had decided to do her sneaking in just her socks. It made the whole experience feel more like she was breaking rules back in her student days. She couldn't possibly explain it, but she wanted to relive those midnight adventures in Hogwarts one last time before adult life got in the way for good. 

 

The hallways were drafty, just like she remembered them, although somehow it didn't seem nearly as bad as it had then. The chill was bracing. 

 

Ginny walked to the moving staircases, kept at a standstill after dark to prevent casualties, and climbed up many long flights. All of the paintings slumbered peacefully as she passed them although she happily would have talked to them, just to see if they even remembered her or if her memory had been washed away with waves of fresh faces. 

 

When she reached the hallway, an unexpected sight stopped her short. Before her clearly was the door that lead to the Room of Requirement. If it was visible, that could only mean that someone else was already there and had arrived just moments before herself. 

 

Heart hammering in her chest, Ginny drew her wand and pushed the door to the Room softly open, stepping inside. Tears sprang into her eyes as she took in the spacious chamber before her, full of dull Persian carpets and stone columns. At the opposite wall was a fireplace big enough to belong in the school kitchens, the fire within burning bright blue. It looked as it had in the days of the DA, in her fourth year at Hogwarts. Harry had taught everyone how to conjure their Patronuses here. So it would only make sense if it was Harry she was about stumble upon in the Room. 

 

“Harry?” Ginny tried to say, but the word caught halfway in her throat. She coughed — damn that damp — and let out a successful, “Hello?”

 

“Oh! Hi?”

 

The voice wasn't Harry's. Ginny's knees almost gave out with relief. Then they almost gave out a second time as Cho Chang poked her head out from behind a column. Her smile could have lit up the entire room when she spotted Ginny. 

 

“Ginny! What're you doing here? I figured I would be the only one up here at this time of night.”

 

“I-I assumed the same,” Ginny stammered. “I just wanted one last look at the place.”

 

Cho gave the room a once-over as if seeing it for the first time. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? So many memories. . .Harry and I kissed here once in fifth year.”

 

Ginny blanched. Harry had never told her that. Never. And she'd even confessed her other schoolgirl crushes to him. “How was it?” Ginny asked, an edge to her voice. 

 

“Disappointing.”

 

Cho walked to the center of the room and drew her dark wand. Waving it and murmuring, she conjured a chandelier dripping with blue flames from the Room. It hung between them, lighting the room with its unearthly glow. 

 

“I know you and Harry aren't a thing anymore,” Cho said over her shoulder as she conjured up two sofas and sat them across from each other. “Was he really as bad as all that? Did the Chosen One have a floppy wand?”

 

Ginny was taken aback for a moment before Cho laughed. It was like soft but musical, the sort of laugh that wants to draw one from you, too. 

 

“Sorry, but that's what some of the rumors said. Sore subject, still?” Cho conjured up something else. It might have been a coffee table or a wardrobe for all Ginny paid attention to it. All she could see were the curves under Cho's tight t-shirt and the way the teal light played off her milky skin. 

 

“Cho,” Ginny began, taking a step towards her. “Did anyone tell you the real reason why Harry and I broke up?”

 

Cho turned around, her wand still partially raised. A lock of jet black hair fell across her smooth forehead. Of course, no one knew why Harry and Ginny had broken up except for Harry, Ginny. . .and perhaps Draco Malfoy. 

 

Cho said nothing, but her tongue flicked out over her bottom lip. The tightness in Ginny's jeans increased. She took another step closer to the witch. 

 

“We broke up because we couldn't make each other happy.” Ginny was now within inches of Cho. She could see the way her eyes weren't black, the way they appeared from afar, but a deep, deep brown. “Not emotionally, not romantically. Not sexually.” She swallowed, trying to clear the dryness from her mouth. “He didn’t want someone like me. And I don't want anyone like Harry.”

 

Cho lowered her wand. She had imperceptibly stepped closer to Ginny. Maybe it was the suddenly hungry look in her eyes, or the way Cho had begun taking small, quick breaths from between her parted lips, or seeing Katie getting off that had given Ginny the idea. She didn't know and she didn't care. 

 

“What do you want, Ginny?” Cho asked, the question dripping with possibility. 

 

Ginny swallowed again. “I want you, Cho.”


	2. . . .Because You Just Might Get It (But Not How You Think).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sex, regrets, and hard conversations.

“I want you, Cho.”

 

Had those words really just come out of her own mouth? Ginny would have doubted it had Cho not reacted immediately. Her wand arm dropped to her side, her head cocking, as she surveyed Ginny. Ginny knew she was blushing furiously and — Merlin — she needed to be skin-to-skin with Cho Chang before she went entirely mad. Her desire was squirming deep in her belly. She hadn't felt anything like it in ages.

 

Then Cho was up against her, her hands sliding neatly under the hem of her t-shirt and pressing to Ginny’s abdomen, cold and soothing against her hot skin. Cho teased her thumbs just under the hem of the sports bra Ginny had pulled on so her nipples didn’t show through her thin shirt. It felt so good to feel foreign hands on her skin, to feel nails dragging against her skin. Ginny’s chin tilted and she pressed her lips to the other girl’s neck.

 

“Are we really doing this?” Ginny asked into Cho’s skin. There was a nervous laugh somewhere in her voice. Cho Chang had always been the most wanted girl in school and it was surreal to think that one sentence had made her leap right into action. Then again, Cho had had a bit of a reputation at school for her short-lived hookup-centered relationships — the Chang Bang, some of her jilted exes called it, because Cho certainly wasn’t in it for the emotional connection — but Ginny could taste spark between on her tongue. It was sweet and metallic. 

 

“Damn straight, Weasley,” Cho replied. A devilish grin had spread across her lips. Her hands tightened on Ginny’s waist and pulled her closer. “Now just shut up and kiss me. Show me what Harry Potter's missing.”

 

Ginny propelled Cho backwards until her back was against a wall, pinning her arms above her, and pressed her lips to the gorgeous witch's neck again. She worked her way up to her jaw and finally to her lips. Cho already had her mouth open, waiting to push her tongue against Ginny’s. Their kiss deepened as Ginny's hands snaked down, taking in Cho's ample curves with pleasure before diving under her thin tee shirt and unhooking her bra. Harry had always fumbled at this part, never being swift, never getting better at it. Ginny didn’t need the practice, since she’d been taking off her bra since she’d started wearing them. She could do it one-handed and so she did.

The swell of Cho’s breasts in her palms, the distraction of Cho tracing the stretch marks and war scars on Ginny’s back, the soft moans they both gasped out when the other would find just the right spot. 

 

It felt like they'd only just begun when Cho broke contact by pushing Ginny back, gasping for breath, eyes shining. “Finger me,” she ordered, not breaking eye contact for a single second as she said it.

 

“Already?” Ginny teased. She couldn't help but remember how Harry had always indulged her with loads of foreplay before getting down to the nitty-gritty. It was Ginny's favorite part. Then again, they’d needed more than normal to get down, seeing as neither of them were attracted to each other. So she dismissed it when Cho silenced her with another tongue-filled kiss. 

 

Ginny unlaced Cho's pajama bottoms and slipped her hand between the lacy fabric of her knickers and Cho's skin. Every motion felt practiced, like a dance they both knew and were finally getting to perform. Her pubic hair bushy under Ginny's searching fingers, but she moved on to graze two fingers between Cho's warm, wet folds. Her index finger massaged her clitoris until Cho cried out, arching her back. There were hands in hair and teeth grazing gently against skin and the repetitive, obsessive gesture Ginny made within Cho, pushing against her softly, insistently, over and over again. The black-haired witch moaned, high and pleading, the sound almost cascading to a wail. It bounced off the empty hall, filled the space around them, became all that Ginny could concentrate on. Then Cho’s hand crept down to replace Ginny’s on her clit, and she finished herself off with another arch of her back, another swell to her cries, fingers curling roughly into Ginny’s loose hair. 

“That was bloody brilliant, Weasley,” Cho murmured, voice husky, into her ear, warm cheek against cooler one. 

“I’m glad,” Ginny replied softly. Her heart swelled. This was it. This was what she had been searching for with Harry and never finding, this was all the pieces falling into place and feeling right. There was no distracting, sudden thoughts of, Oh, god, I wish I was anywhere but here, as his maleness overwhelmed her. There was only the thought of another kiss, another fuck, another arch as she made her cum. 

“My legs hurt, let’s sit,” Cho said, and took Ginny’s hand, leading her to one of the sofa’s she conjured earlier. She collapsed back, pulling Ginny onto her lap, kissing her again with more heat, more tongue. Ginny straddled the other witch, the seam of her jeans pressing achingly, teasingly between her legs, and smiled into the kiss. Cho’s hands roved, unrepentant, and she helped Ginny out of her jeans.

The cool press of the damp fabric against Ginny’s skin was invigorating. Cho grabbed her hips and moved them, pressing herself against her, their bodies grinding together. The shocks of the pleasure radiated through Ginny as she ground against her, feeling everything build inside her, feeling her body ache for release.

Then a tinny, wailing alarm sounded.

They both paused, then Cho loudly exclaimed, “Shit! Shit, I had no idea it was that late! Shit, shit, shit!” Then Cho was untangling herself from her arms.

“What are you doing?” Ginny asked, watching as Cho began to do up the ties on her pajama bottoms and wiggle her shirt and bra back into place. “Cho?”

“I have to go,” Cho said, ragged and scattered. Her tone had completely changed even though the blush from her orgasm hadn’t faded from her cheeks. She found her wand and waved it to stop the alarm noise. “Shit! I can’t be late.”

“But—!”

“This was fun. Harry sure was unlucky to lose you,” she continued, interrupting the redhead. “But I have to go. I’m sorry.”

Ginny watched in shock as the black-haired witch tucked her wand behind her ear and ran out of the room of requirement, the door slam echoing long after it had shut. Ginny slumped down onto the sofa, numb and confused. What had just happened? What the hell had just happened?

———

After another rigorous — had Wood forgotten they weren’t energy-filled teens anymore? — Quidditch practice, Ginny, her bladder jolting uncomfortably with every step, ran into one of the bathrooms. As she got to the toilet and sat down, Quidditch breeches around her ankles, she realized just how exhausted she felt. Maybe she should have spent last night sleeping rather than awake and wondering what the hell had gotten into Cho. After the other witch had run off, Ginny had paced the Room of Requirement for a while before finally heading back to bed. But her memories of how Cho’s hips and breasts and, god, everything had felt and the responding ache between her legs kept her awake. Finally, she had attempted to get herself off as quietly as possible, but without finding release. Back in her student days, slipping one hand into her underwear and stroking herself without the others noticing had gotten her aroused beyond belief. Now, it just made her roll her eyes at herself. She was a grown woman, not a horny fourteen-year-old.

And to make matters worse, Cho had been practically sitting in Lee Jordan’s lap at breakfast, both of them wearing matching smug expressions and tousled bedhead. Ginny was the only one who had the bags and a scowl. Angelina looked well-slept, despite what Ginny had caught her doing, and everyone else had been ready to go when practice started.

“You alright, Weasley?” Wood had called when she missed catching the passed Quaffle for the third time. “Do you need a break?”

He had meant it considerately, but Ginny had bristled. “I’m fine,” she had shouted back, and went on to score four goals in ten minutes. Her position on the Harpy’s wasn’t for nothing; she was a good goddamn Quidditch player.

Ginny left the stall and washed her hands. She closed her eyes for a moment and just let the warm water run over her hands, wondering if she could sneak off and grab a quick shower before lunch. Then she heard the door open and her eyes automatically flicked open and looked into the mirror to see who had come in.

Oh, no, she thought.

Professor of the Defense Against the Dark Arts, Harry James Potter, stood in the doorway, wearing rumpled robes with a Muggle button-down and jeans underneath, his hair tousled in his usual fashion. Somehow, he made the dark five-o’clock-shadow on his chin look a little chic. “Gin?” he asked. “What are you doing in here?”

“Um, isn’t it obvious?” God, they don’t speak for nearly five months, and that kind of question is the first thing to come out of his mouth? “This is the toilets.”

“Yes, but it’s the boys toilets,” he said, chin tilting towards the line of urinals across one wall. 

Ginny felt her eyes widen. “Oh, god,” she began, but Harry cut her off.

“Don’t be embarrassed. They’ve changed everything around since our school days. Half the time I’m surprised I manage to find my classroom.” 

The silence was so thick it could have been sliced through with a knife. Ginny could feel the tension like it was electrical shocks across her skin. 

They both began to speak:

“I heard you were great at practice today,” Harry said at the same time Ginny said, “I was wondering if you were coming to the match.”

They both shut up immediately.

Ginny reached out and shut off the water tap, the metal spigot squealing and continuing to steadily drip even when she was given it two tight twists. It continued to drip even as she said, “So, are you coming?”

Harry rubbed a hand across his stubble. “Do you want me there?”

“I do, yes.” And as soon as the words left her mouth, she felt tears inexplicably well up in her eyes. They pushed, hot and insistant, at them, even when she balled her hands into fists and told herself that she would. Not. Cry. Not in front of Harry. She’d already done too much crying in front of him. But when she blinked, they leaked out. 

Everything seem to hit her at once and she sank to the floor and put her head on her knees. Hot tears soaked her Quidditch uniform as she sobbed. She felt stupid and small and unlovable, curling up in a ball on the cold tiles of the toilets. Her hands fisted in her hair. She was worthless. She had done everything wrong. She had fucked up efficiently in true Weasley fashion.

“Gin? Oh, god, what’s wrong?” Harry crossed the room quickly and knelt down next to her, tilting her chin upward. His green eyes searched hers. “Who hurt you?” he whispered. He always seemed to know exactly what was bothering her. This was what had caused them to break up in the first place: both of them being unable to swallow their true feelings and both of them getting their hearts broken by watching the other try.

Ginny couldn’t speak. A lump constricted her throat and all she could do was let out a tiny sob, covering her face with her hands. She didn’t want him to see her like this. Her last shred of pride and dignity finally scraped away.

“Would you like a hug?” Harry asked, and his voice was cautious and gentle. It was the kind of tone that said, ‘I don’t want to overstep but I don’t know where we stand.’ 

Ginny nodded.

He slid closer and gathered her up in his arms. Where the cool tiles had been was now replaced by the warmth of him, the lingering smell of an explosive spell, and the soft, aged fabric of Harry’s robes pressed against her face. She cried and cried, no longer sure what she was crying about, and Harry held her, cheek pressed against the top of her head, one hand rubbing her back until her tears dried up, leaving her gasping and hiccuping. 

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”

Ginny shook her head, his robes scratching against her cheek. Finally, she pulled away. She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes until she saw color explode under her swollen eyelids. With as much courage as she could muster, she said, “I don’t want to talk about it. I want to apologize.”

Harry’s glasses — those silly round glasses he still insisted on wearing, the ones that gave his eyes an owlish look — had slid down his nose, so he pushed them back up. “Apologize? What for?”

“Don’t play dumb,” she said, but there was no acid behind it, only exhaustion. “You know what for.”

He sighed. He knew what was coming. “I don’t want you to apologize.”

“I want to apologize.”

“But I don’t need one.”

“Yes, you do!” Ginny snapped. Damn it, she could feel that old temper rising up in her gut. She wasn’t going to start another fight with him, was she? “Look, I’m sorry for the way this happened and that I wasn’t honest with you—“

“I wasn’t honest with you, either—“

“Shhh, I’m not done yet. I’m sorry that I wasn’t honest with you about myself, I’m sorry that I wasn’t strong enough to look past what my family wanted and to ask what WE wanted. And. . .I’m sorry I reacted so poorly when you told me the truth.”

Then Harry was pulling her hands away from her face, framing it with his own, and saying, voice thick and constructed, “And I’m sorry for letting you down, love. I promised myself I would find any way I could to make you happy and I failed miserably.”

They were both crying now, tears tracing down their cheeks in wet tracks. The cool band of a ring pressed against Ginny’s cheek. “You could make me happy now,” she said. When his expression shifted into alarm, she exclaimed, “Oh, no! No, no, not like that. I mean, you could make me happy now by us being friends again. I’ve missed you, Harry.”

His face crumpled. “I’ve missed you, too, Gin.” 

She puffed out her cheeks. Her stomach still twisted and squirmed because there was one more thing they needed to talk about. She rested her forehead against his. “They still doesn’t know,” she blurted.

“Oh, god,” Harry groaned. “You’d think it’d be easier at our age but somehow it’s worse to come out to your family when you’re an adult.”

Ginny laughed softly. “I know. Hey. . .” She grabbed his hands and rubbed her thumb over the silver ring around his pointer finger. It was studded with glinting, glittering green stones. “Is that from Draco?”

He couldn’t hide the smile. It tugged at his lips even though he was obviously trying to push it down. “Yeah,” he said softly. Ginny could see in her ex’s eyes how happy the other man made him. Neither of them should ever have tried to shove down their true feelings just to make the Weasley family happy. They would have to be happy with the way Ginny and Harry really were.

“Let’s make a deal,” she said, “That we come out to them before the end of this weekend, okay? I don’t want us to have to hide anymore, and I want you to be able to bring Draco to family gatherings, just like I’ll eventually be able to bring my girlfriend.” She tried not to sound bitter that she was still single while Harry had been snatched up almost immediately after their break-up. She couldn’t blame Draco, though. Harry was a catch. 

“Is this for the benefit of our mental health or just because you want to torment Draco into playing the accordion like you used to when we were younger?” 

Ginny’s smile was sly. “Maybe a bit of both. Do we have a deal?”

Harry’s eyelids lowered for a second as he let out a sigh. Ginny knew that sigh well. It was one that said he didn’t want to, and she felt the same, but they couldn’t hide any longer. Finally, he gave her hands a squeeze and said, “Deal.”

The both looked up suddenly as the bathroom door opened and Ron came in. He started when he saw them both, sitting on the cold tiles of the bathroom, eyes red-rimmed and swollen, holding hands and looking almost guilty, as if they’d been caught doing something worse than talking. 

“Oh, ‘ello, mate. Did I interrupt something?” His gaze flicked between Ginny and Harry like he was watching a fast-paced fight over the Quaffle. He rubbed his nose as if he could erase his freckles that way. 

Ginny stood and straightened out her robes. She took a deep breath and said, “Use the loo and then meet me outside. I have something important to tell you.” 

———

The wind whipped her hair out of the braid she’d managed to wrangle it into. She floated high above the Quidditch pitch, the warm wind tugging at her blue uniform and smelling achingly like her school days, peering down for the tell-tale sign of the golden snitch amind the mass of blue and green uniforms. The alumni match had been split into the Blues and the Greens, since the Ravenclaw and Slytherin teams had the most spare uniforms, and the stands were packed with students, teachers, and wizards and witches from all around. She knew that, no matter how the match came out, she would be signing autographs with her fellow players. Cho included. But despite last night’s disappointing encounter, despite having to have that hard conversation with Harry, despite it all. . .she felt lighter than air, a thrill in her stomach, a happiness that she hadn’t felt in a long time pulling a grin to her lips as she surveyed the pitch from up high.

Ron had not just taken it well, he’d been almost overjoyed when she told him. It made her wonder if he’d been hoping she way gay the whole time. When she had managed to stammer out the words, knowing Harry was just on the other side of the bathroom door, lending support in the only way he could, Ron’s face had split into a grin and he’d said, “Mum is going to so pleased to have more girls in the family!” and then hugged her so tightly her back cracked. 

Harry’s proclamations were met with a little more startle from Ron only because they were, “I’m gay and in love with Draco Malfoy,” which had been delivered after waltzing from the bathroom. To be fair, this had been played slightly for shock value, which was typical Harry. However, the reaction from Ron was nothing less than total support.

“You’re my best mate, Harry. Dunno how I feel about Draco, but I’m willing to give him a shot if you like him,” Ron had said after delivering another crushing hug. 

One down. Well, two, if you count the fact that Ron would no doubt immediately tell Hermione. Neither of them minded at all, though. But coming out to the rest of her family wasn’t even on her mind then, because she would get there in time. She and Harry both. They were going to be fine. They were going to be fine and happy, finally happy. But now was not a time to think about that. Now was a time to think about Quidditch. She spotted the flicker of gold out of the corner of her vision. The golden snitch.

Ginny pointed the front of her broom down and entered a dive. . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience as I finish this chapter! I hope you enjoyed this story! :D
> 
> NOTES  
> \- The accordion joke is based on a Tumblr art post I saw forever ago with the headcanon that Draco was secretly an accordion player. IDK, I just loved the sound of it and wanted to put that in. I like to imagine that, in this world, maybe Harry's gang and Draco weren't as antagonistic as they were in the books. Not friends, but not enemies either. Ramble over! Thanks again for reading. :)


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